


Your Touch Haunts Me

by rieraclaelin



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Not Really Character Death, non-sexual nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 20:29:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17432993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rieraclaelin/pseuds/rieraclaelin
Summary: Stiles spent the week walking around in a daze. The tv was playing in the background and had been playing nonstop for the past three days. He didn’t even pretend to try and watch it anymore.He didn’t remember eating, but he must have at some point judging by the dishes in the sink. He probably should wash them, but, he honestly didn’t care. He’d much rather sit in the chair and stare at the wall. And stare. The wall never talked back to him in that fake, soothing voice. The wall never tried to give him touches that were meant to be comforting but instead just made his stomach roll. The wall was blissfully quiet. The wall didn’t make him think of Derek.





	Your Touch Haunts Me

**Author's Note:**

> [Wackyclover](http://wackyclover.tumblr.com/) asked me for a kissing prompt, which was "Sad or hurt feelings in the shower?!" in the kissing prompt thing I reblogged on Tumblr. This ended up being the angstiest thing I have ever written. Oops!
> 
> Thank you to [Smowkie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smowkie/pseuds/Smowkie) for reading this over for me, and helping me out with it!

Stiles spent the week walking around in a daze. The tv was playing in the background and had been playing nonstop for the past three days. He didn’t even pretend to try and watch it anymore.

He didn’t remember eating, but he must have at some point judging by the dishes in the sink. He probably should wash them, but, he honestly didn’t care. He’d much rather sit in the chair and stare at the wall. And stare. The wall never talked back to him in that fake, soothing voice. The wall never tried to give him touches that were meant to be comforting but instead just made his stomach roll. The wall was blissfully quiet. The wall didn’t make him think of Derek.

Someone knocked on the door. Twice. Three times. Stiles must have opened it at some point because the knocking stopped and Lydia was in his kitchen washing dishes. Or maybe she had a key. He didn’t know nor did he care. 

“You stink,” Lydia said from behind him. The wall neither agreed nor disagreed with her. Stiles preferred to listen to the wall.

“Come on, you need to stay strong. Go. Shower.”

Stiles found himself in the bathroom with the door mostly shut and the water on. There were fresh pajamas on the counter next to a folded up towel. Stiles let his clothes fall to the ground in a heap and just left them there as he stepped into the water. 

He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the wall as the water beat down over his neck and back. The water was hot, and Stiles wished it could burn away the thoughts that wanted to race in his head. He banged his forehead once on the wall, then curled his hands into fists at his side.

A touch skimmed down his back, and Stiles spun around to stare at the empty space. He brought a fist up to his mouth as another touch ran down his arm. He shook his head and bit down on his fist, but nothing could stop the memory from slamming into him. 

Derek had been right there, in the empty space. So very alive and happy. They’d had a rare weekday morning together and had decided to spend it together, in the shower. There was slick skin, laughter, sighs, and plenty of lingering kisses. The kind of lingering kisses that gradually became hotter. Became sloppier. The kind that tended to have groans following in their wake.

Stiles choked on a sob as he fell to the floor of the shower and rocked. His chest became tighter and it was becoming hard for him to breathe. He tried to empty his mind, tried to push all thoughts of Derek away, but they remained. 

Arms wrapped around Stiles and pulled him, and he struggled to get away. He didn’t want to feel Derek’s touch again. It hurt enough the first time, he didn’t want to think of him being gone.

“Stiles, it’s just me. Shhh, it’s just me,” a voice said in Stiles’ ear, and he struggled weakly before sagging. He took in the smell of perfume and let the tears fall.

“He’s really gone, Lyds,” Stiles rasped out in between sobs. A towel was wrapped around him, and then he was being led to his bedroom. Lydia pulled Stiles down on the floor with their backs against the bed and pulled him close.

“You don’t know that,” Lydia said quietly. Stiles shook his head. How could Derek still be alive? They had found the Camaro on the side of the road, empty. Well, mostly empty. There was plenty of blood in there. Too much blood. And only Derek’s blood. A trail of blood had led into the woods and Stiles had overheard his dad saying it was clear a body had been dragged. 

“What am I going to do?” Stiles asked when his tears had finally slowed down. Lydia was rocking him gently in her arms as they sat on the floor, and she kept running her fingers through his hair.

“First, you are going to get dressed.”

Stiles glanced down and groaned. “Oh god, I’m so sorry,” he said. The towel was still wrapped around him, thankfully, but still. 

“I’ve seen a penis before,” Lydia said as she shrugged her shoulder. Stiles felt his lips twitch for the first time in a week. Lydia gave him a squeeze, then stood up. “Get dressed,” she said as she walked out into the hallway.

Stiles sat for a minute longer on the floor and wiped his face. Finally, he stood up and made his way back to the bathroom where the shower was still running. He chewed on his lip as he fought back memories, then he quickly shut off the water and grabbed the fresh clothes and put them on.

He made his way back out to the living room where Lydia was putting some bowls of steaming soup on the table. He wasn’t hungry, but judging by the look on Lydia’s face, that excuse wasn’t going to fly. 

He was just about to sit down on the couch when his cell phone rang from across the room. His shoulders hunched, and Lydia patted him on the arm then went to answer his phone.

“Stiles,” she began, and Stiles shook his head.  “Stiles, look at me.” He slowly lifted his head and turned to look at Lydia. Her face broke out into a slow smile and Stiles slowly sat down on the couch.

“Your dad found him. He’s alive.”

 

 

 


End file.
